Mike rolled over onto his back and groaned as the full force of last nights' consumption enveloped him. Jesus what did I drink….what did I freaking smoke he thought to himself as he thanked god it was the weekend and at least he was safe from the fearsome Donna inquisition. Rolling over to his side he checked the clock and was surprised to see it was gone noon, he never slept that late. Figuring that he'd give himself ten more minutes to get himself accustomed to the day before he grabbed a shower and headed out to Rachel's in search of a Sunday brunch, he flicked quickly through his cell to make sure he had no important emails.
Fourteen missed calls from the office. Mike tried to focus his gaze on the blinding phone and saw with horror that the day planner that automatically opened upon phone unlock had fallen open on Friday the 15th. Friday. It wasn't Sunday. It wasn't the weekend. It was the last day he'd ever breathe the breath of a man not heading squarely into the Harvey Specter gallows. Mike, after recovering from his momentary cardiac spasm, fell out of bed, fighting desperately to detangle himself from the confines of his many bedclothes and made a dash for the shower. Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and galloping down three flights of stairs, determined to catch the first cab that came his way, even if it meant knocking over every OAP in the New York district.
As Mike gazed aimlessly out of the window of the cab he had wrested from the grips of a group of giggling shoppers, the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach intensified. He'd missed three meetings. He'd missed two brief deadlines. He'd missed four scheduled client conferences and Harvey was going to kill him. Not metaphorically kill him. Physically kill him. Well ok not kill Mike thought in chagrin, but definitely kill any thoughts he might have had of sitting down for the next month. Thinking back with a grimace to the last meeting with Harvey's god damned paddle Mile groaned as he recalled its reasoning. He'd been late. Not even this late. But late. Harvey had warned him then, that if he was ever late again without good reason he could expect double of what he'd just received, minus the protection his pants offered him. Mike flushed in the back of the cab at the thoughts of undergoing a bare bottomed paddling from Harvey. Maybe he'll forget he said that he thought hopefully, and mentally kicked himself a mere second later. Harvey didn't forget things. Ever.
All too soon the yellow cab pulled up outside the imposing building that housed Pearson-Hardman. Paying and tipping the driver, Mike made his way quickly into the building and up the many floors to the legal offices. Deciding then and there to seek Harvey out now and just get the damned thing over with, Mike squared his shoulders and set off to Harvey's office, hoping against hope to find him alone and to bypass Donna, who he knew would be equally pissed. Mercifully and unusually, Donna was indeed not at her usual post. Wondering briefly why, Mike cringed when he realised it was lunch time and Donna was most probably out with Rachel somewhere. Harvey was indeed in his office and he was indeed alone. Mike looked through the glass windows at the imposing older man and his will deflated like a child's balloon that came into the harm's way of excessive heat, and he turned to bolt to the relative safety of his bull pen cubicle. Before he could communicate this demand to his legs, a quiet authoritative voice rang out from inside the glass confines he was attempting to escape.
"In here Michael, now please".
Mike balked inwardly at the usage of his full name. He was in for it. He was so in for it, they needed to create a new definition of in for it. Managing to propel himself forward with some difficulty, Mike obediently entered Harvey's office and stood before his desk, with his eyes glued to the floor as Harvey for his part, studiously ignored him and continued working on the papers in front of him. Mike knew better than to talk. This was all part of Harvey's ritual. He'd make Mike sweat before turning his attention on him. Predictably, Mike was left observing the ornate patterns of Harvey's carpet for a considerable time before the older man looked up and simply said "explain please".
Mike, who was expecting the usual verbal tirade, took a minute to recover from the gentle voice Harvey was using and stammered out "I got blitzed last night, I cut Trevor off and it got heated and I just…I just needed to let off some steam" he finished miserably, gazing once more down at the floor.
"Eyes on me Michael".
Mike obediently but reluctantly tore his gaze from his shoes and met Harvey's eyes and inwardly grimaced as he saw the evident disappointment there.
"I don't know what to do with you Michael. I've tried traditional methods of punishment with you and I've tried unconventional methods of punishment with you, and neither method pool seems to be working. I've told you this before, but in the interests of clarity I'll tell you this again. You are a god damned talented lawyer when you want to be. But talent can and will only get you so far in this game. If you throw it all away on a daily basis, because life gets hard, then you need to readdress your career choice. Not that this career was actually something you planned. More something you fell into. Which seems to be the pattern of your life Michael, coasting from one plan path to another, when the former gets hard. Well, I've put too much time and effort into you, and you are not going to screw yourself or me, for that matter, just because you don't know how to close the personal off from the professional, and get to work on god damned time. I've covered for you with Jessica; she thinks you have permission attend to familial matters. So your ass is covered in that regard".
Harvey's voice had lost that gentleness and was now taking on the edge that Mike associated with being the pre cursor of getting his ass torn up. As if reading Mikes thoughts, Harvey gestured with his hand in exasperation towards the door in the corner of his office. The door that led to what was the old secretary's office, before Donna had point blank refused to work in such "windowless, airless and charmless" conditions. Now it was just a small empty room, off a room. A room with extremely thick and insulated walls that refused to let the strains of the sounds within to escape into the outer offices, with a desk and a filing cabinet. To Mikes continual upset, no files ever saw the inside of that filing cabinet. Only Harvey's weapon of choice. A large, oak, three hole drilled paddle, that had found the seat of Mikes slacks on many occasions.
Mike, for his part and to Harvey's surprise didn't try to, as he usually did, lawyer out of his upcoming punishment. Rather, he gave a small jerk of his head to indicate he knew what Harvey was communicating and strode purposefully into the small room, politely holding the door open for Harvey as he entered. Slightly mollified by this unprecedented acceptance of consequence, Harvey closed the door gently behind him and flicked on the lights, which illuminated the desk in the corner of the room. The desk that had supported Mike's weight on many occasions, as he bent over it receiving Harvey's unique brand of discipline.
Mike started towards the desk as a matter of habit, and was surprised when Harvey gently caught him by the arm preventing his movement. "Mike" he said with that unusual gentleness back, "do you understand why this is happening? I'm not going to do this as a matter of habit, I'm only going to do this when I think that you both know and understand why you're receiving it".
Mike looked at Harvey in mild surprise but recovered quickly. "Yes Harvey, I know why this is happening and I know that I deserve it. "But you know, if you're having second thoughts and want to let me off with an extra briefing or two, that's totally cool too". Harvey grinned at Mikes words. "Not a chance kid. Desk. Now", giving Mike a gentle nudge in the general direction. As Mike obediently walked towards said desk, Harvey sighed inwardly and opened the top drawer of the large filing cabinet and withdrew the paddle that was located inside. Mike would never know how much Harvey hated doing this and how much he secretly feared that it would cause Mike to hate him.
Closing the file cabinet quietly, Harvey slowly moved towards the younger man who was obediently waiting at the desk for instruction. Steeling himself Harvey said quietly "Mike. What did I tell you would be the consequence of being late again so soon without good reason"? Calming down somewhat at the return to his shortened name, Mike replied nervously but immediately "that I wouldn't have the comfort of my pants and that I'd be feeling this on my bare ass". Harvey grinned slightly at Mike eidetic memory and stated calmly "yes, I did. And that's not going to change I'm afraid, you were given fair warning. So, suit jacket off please Mike and drop the pants".
Mike, who had been taking the whole thing very well so far, obediently removed his suit jacket and draped it over a nearby chair. Fumbling towards his pants zipper, he couldn't help but turn and give Harvey a full blown Mike Ross patented puppy dog pleading stare. Wishing inwardly that he could acquiesce to Mikes' unspoken plea, Harvey shook his head in the negative and said firmly "pants down now please Mike. Either you can do it, or I can, it's totally up to you". This statement caused Mike to hurriedly unzip his slacks and pull them down to his knees and bent over the desk, hoping against hope that when Harvey said bare bottom, he didn't actually mean bare bottom. These hopes were soon dashed as he heard the older man move quietly towards him and in one quick movement, pull his boxer shorts down to meet his slacks. Mike groaned outwardly in clear despairing displeasure. "You only have yourself to blame here kid, I gave you fair warning".
With that Harvey, moved backwards into his well versed position and placed both a restraining and comforting hand on the small of the kids back. He looked so small bare bottomed and miserable. Harvey groaned inwardly at having to do this but steeled himself, the kid needed to learn that there were consequences to messing up in the major leagues. Without further delay, Harvey raised the heavy paddle high in the air and brought it down with a menacing swoosh and ultimate crack, on the upturned and unprotected bottom of his young protégée.
Mike predictably bucked and hissed under his hand, the weight of the paddle on his bare backside clearly having more of an impact that he had anticipated. Harvey for his part who knew all too well how much this particular paddle hurt on the bare unprotected skin, grimaced in sympathy for the kid. Mike didn't know, and hell Mike wouldn't ever know, that the reason that Harvey used this method of punishment, was because he was taught this method of punishment. At the hands and over the desk of one Jessica Pearson, the paddle currently in his hand was the same that taught him many painful lessons and Jessica had seen fit to gift it to Harvey when he hired the kid. He had scoffed at her then, telling her he would never punish the kid the same way she did him. She had just left with that maddening, knowing superiority. How right she was thought Harvey ruefully as he drew his arm back again and again, covering every inch of Mikes backside with the full force of the paddle.
Predictably, Mike began pleading and whimpering by the tenth and eleventh strokes and by the sixteenth and seventeenth sobbing loudly. "Please...please Harvey I'll never be late again, please..please no more". Hardening his heart with great difficulty against the anguished pleas of the younger man, Harvey tightened his hold on the small of his back and systematically peppered Mikes sit spots with firm, hard and deliberate strokes. Mike wouldn't sit comfortably for a week if not more. This brought more desperate wails from the young lawyer, but no more bucking or trying to stand up against Harvey's hold. They were nearly finished Harvey thought with relief as he applied a last flurry of strokes, deliberately on the same spot on each of Mikes' now fiery red cheeks.
Placing the paddle down on the desks surface, Harvey rubbed comforting circles over the small of the young man's back, who continued to sob into arms. When the sobbing whittled out into quiet sniffling, Harvey stepped back and gently pulled Mike's boxers back up around the angry red bottom, which drew a loud hiss from the tangle of arms, carefully pulling his slacks back up to their original position, Harvey stepped away to give Mike some space. Picking up the paddle again he winced as he saw Mike stiffen, knowing that he was thinking he was going to receive more licks. "Just putting it away buddy" he reassured the sad younger man quietly, as he strode back to the filing cabinet and returned the paddle, hopefully not having to remove it again for a while. This is Mike we're talking about though he thought sadly.
As he turned back towards Mike, he was alarmed when he saw the kid had not stood up and was still slumped over the desk with his head in his arms. Moving forward quickly, Harvey lent down next to him and gently asked "you ok buddy"? Mike shook his head in the affirmative, but still made no effort to move. Harvey stared at him for a few moments and then gently lifted the kid up from the desk. He looked at Mikes face in sadness. The kids' eyes were swollen from crying and his face was blotchy and puffed. Before he could say a word, he was horrified when Mikes' small voice said "why do you bother".
"Why do I.."? What? What are you saying Mike"?
No answer, Mikes gaze had once again found the floor. Growing alarmed, Harvey repeated the question again. This isn't what happened after a spanking. Mike didn't go quiet and distant like this. To the contrary he always snuggled contentedly into Harvey's arms for the habitual post-punishment hug.
"Why do you bother with me. You put all this effort into me, put your licence on the line for me and I just screw up again and again. It's pointless. I'm pointless. I'm just a screw up. Why do you bother".
Within a second to Mikes' horror, Harvey had pulled a nearby chair into the centre of the room, sat down on it and yanked Mike over his knee and began peppering his already wounded bottom with crisp and firm hand swats. "Michael Ross, don't you EVER say that to me again young man. You are not a screw up. You're just a kid who sometimes doesn't know any better. You are far from pointless and if I ever you hear you say those words again I will spank you bare bottomed over my knee every day for a week". With one final and resounding swat, Harvey set Mike back on his feet and placed the chair back in its original position.
Turning round to face Mike once again, he felt staggering relief as the younger man catapulted himself into his arms and rested his head on his broad shoulder. Returning the embrace, Harvey squeezed Mike's skinny shoulders gently and placed a finger under his chin, tipping his head up so that he was in level eye contact. "You're forgiven now Mike. You took your punishment very well and we won't speak of it again, ok?". Mike nodded happily and disentangled himself from Harvey's arms. "Hot dog cart time?" he asked grinning.
Harvey looked curiously at Mike, usually he wanted to be alone for a short time after a spanking. "You sure you're up for it kid"?
Mike grinned devilishly at Harvey. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be? You spank like my grandmother".
Harvey rolled his eyes in exasperation as he landed a well aimed swat on the seat of the kids' slacks, drawing a squeal and ushered him out the door and his office. Laughing and joking at Louis's new cat patterned socks, the mentor and the mentee made their way to their favourite street cart vendor, all thoughts of tardiness and punishment forgotten.